


dancing’s when i think of you

by 2devilz



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling, F/F, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love Confessions, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 04:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16298237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2devilz/pseuds/2devilz
Summary: ...misaki and kokoro are still awake at four am.





	dancing’s when i think of you

**Author's Note:**

> each ellipsis indicates a change in pov.  
> thanks for reading!

       it was nearing dawn, and misaki okusawa couldn’t sleep.  
       she couldn’t get up, either.  
       a blue light cast upon her face, and the scripted conversation from the television was nothing more than white noise. there was no way that misaki could pay attention to that anyway—she was too lost in her own thoughts, and the feeling of tsurumaki kokoro’s hands wrapped around her waist.  
       they were watching television at first, but (expectedly so) the blonde ended up dozing off, cuddling misaki in the process. it was embarrassing, to say the least. to be spooning with your crush, especially when that crush was tsurumaki kokoro.  
misaki sighed, and carefully unwrapped the girl’s hands from her waist.  
…  
       “misaki-chan?”  
       kokoro rubbed at her eyes, slowly clearing fog from her mind. she was standing in the kitchen, bearing witness to a misaki who had escaped her embrace to get a cup of milk.  
       “ah, you’re awake. wait, why?” misaki asked. it was a bit of a silly question—you can’t just ask why someone’s awake if you woke them up! “oh, was it me? sorry.”  
this girl’s voice was always sleepy sounding, the way she droned on and sometimes stretched the last syllable, or sometimes cut it abruptly. but when she was in pajamas at four a.m., her voice was nearly a sing-song whisper. (compare to moca aoba, if you will.)  
       kokoro had no answer to this, other than waddling over and lacing their fingers together. she playfully (yet still sleepily?) began dragging the noirette back to the futon.  
       “h-hey, stop that!”  
       “i’m sleepy, misaki! let’s go back to sleep!”  
       due to the fact that misaki preferred vocal protest to physical protest, kokoro had successfully brought the girl back to the futon. a triumphant yawn escaped her lips, and as she stared at the tv dazedly, kokoro’s sleepiness began to wither away.  
…  
       “hey, what are you plotting now?”  
       kokoro tsurumaki, after hauling misaki back to the futon, was now cracking the door ajar, seemingly escaping. she turned to misaki with sparkling eyes, and—of course—a huge smile.  
       “come with me!”  
       misaki groaned at the vague response, but because her only defining trait is the fact that she is roped up into all kinds of stupid antics, she had to tag along. feeling a bit self conscious of her slightly-exposed chest and midriff, misaki decided to button her shirt—but just one in the middle, so she could still feel the breeze. she didn’t bother changing anything about her untied shorts.  
       the sky was an aurora of pinks and blues, reaffirming the fact that it was four a.m. it was the summertime, so kokoro decided that she’d wanted misaki to come to her beach house. when misaki had suggested she bring kaoru or hagumi, she effortlessly replied that she only wanted misaki.  
       her heart fluttered at the very thought of that.  
…  
       kokoro’s fingers gingerly clutched heaps of her sundress, so as to not wet it. it was a basic sunflower color, with thin elastic straps and layers of lace at the hem. it seemed to mimic her similarly colored hair.  
       she kicked at the water aimlessly, watched the waves nip at her bare toes. kokoro was entranced by this pattern of the waves, so much so that she didn’t notice the sound of bare feet on the sand, not until misaki was standing by her side.  
       “what’re you even doing, you idiot?” she uttered, the sleepiness from earlier still lingering in her voice. kokoro decided that she didn’t have to answer that, instead humming to herself and kicking some more. a sigh escaped into the air, no prize for guessing it’s source.  
…  
       after a while of listening to humming and kicking, misaki decided to recline closer to the waves, so that the tips of her ankles were submerged in the water. kokoro, fascinated by something new happening, joined the girl, in the same pose. (yet a lot more bubbly.)  
something that only misaki would notice was the fact that kokoro’s hand was resting atop hers.  
       “misaki,” kokoro suddenly piped up, breaking the rhythm of the waves.  
       “huh?”  
       “do you know how to dance? like, slow dance.” this piqued misaki’s curiousity. “why do you ask?” so, naturally, kokoro flashed her signature innocently mischievous smile—eyes glimmering, cheeks rosy. usually, misaki hated that smile. how she would plaster it on whenever suggesting something stupid that she’d be dragged into somehow. but for some reason, in the pink glow of the shy sun, and with a soft breeze combing through that girl’s hair, a fluttering reappeared in her chest.  
       “i don’t know! i just really wanna dance with misaki!”  
misaki couldn’t help her sheepish smile, couldn’t suppress the blush in her cheeks. “d-don’t be silly,” she said, but even still she rose to her feet. kokoro did the same.  
       if she was being completely honest, misaki had no clue how to slow dance. but, for the sake of the girl she liked, she would take a chance. she’d never tried it before, but she’d read enough books and watched enough movies to have an idea of what to do. so, with vague memories of said books and movies, misaki intertwined their fingers.  
…  
       kokoro was usually the type to take initiative in these situations, but for some reason, she was content with letting misaki guide her through this dance, lace their fingers and hold her waist.  
       (she was pretty sure that reason was the fuzzy feeling in her chest.)  
       the swaying was awkward, and the girls kept trampling over each others’ feet, but there was still some melodious flow to it.  
       suddenly, when it seemed as though their back and forth dancing would never end, kokoro found herself being span by misaki, and finally dropped into a dip.  
…  
       it was an out-of-body experience, being two inches from her face like that.  
up close, misaki fell in love with kokoro all over again.  
she fell in love with her blissful, golden eyes, and her cheeks dusted with rose. her soft, peachy lips—usually pursed into a smile, but now slightly parted. (perfect for kissing.)  
despite the fact that there were a million words brewing up inside of the both of them, no one spoke a word. the waves kept crashing, on and on and  
on and  
on.  
…  
somehow, they’d ended up right back where they started—kokoro kicking the waves, and misaki watching her.  
to any bystander, it would seem as though kokoro had fallen back into her daze, but really, she was reliving that moment—that moment being The Dip, of course. some of misaki’s jet black hair pooling up at her shoulder, the rest spilling over near kokoro’s face. her eyes, arctic blue but still full of warmth. the smell of vanilla radiating from the girl, which was fitting because vanilla is plain but sweet and so is misaki. (no offense, misaki.)  
“why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”  
a breeze flew by once more.  
“hm? what do you mean, misaki-chan?” despite acting clueless, kokoro noticed it herself—she was enveloped in thought, and even when she did speak, her voice was a bit hushed.  
“ever since we, um, danced, you’ve just...not spoken. you wanna go back to sleep or something?” kokoro shook her head and smiled, albeit a bit melancholically.  
“i was just thinking, there’s so much i don’t know about you.”  
…  
“what’s that supposed to mean?”  
kokoro turned to face misaki, but her eyes were still planted on the sand squishing between her toes.  
it was only until the girls were a few inches away from each other did kokoro stop walking. misaki wanted to scooch away and scold kokoro for her eccentricity, but in that moment, her feet were planted in the ground. she didn’t even have the energy to tear her eyes away, or to feel self-conscious about the heat rising in her cheeks. because in that moment, misaki was sure she was going to be kissed by kokoro.  
but she wasn’t.  
instead, kokoro laced their fingers together. that unexpected bit of contact brought misaki back to reality, but even still, she didn’t move an inch.  
then slowly, carefully, the blonde untangled her left hand from misaki’s right, and placed misaki’s hand over her chest. kokoro’s heartbeat was a little bit fast, but misaki was sure that her own was faster.  
“do you feel it?” kokoro whispered, prompting a soft “mm” from misaki. “can you tell me why this happens when i’m around you?”  
misaki paused for a bit. is this kokoro’s way of confessing? it’s (expectedly) very kokoro-like, but it was also strangely romantic. despite the excitement of being confessed to, misaki felt a twinge of guilt in her chest, a little bit of cowardice for not being able to confess first. but looking into kokoro’s eyes, she felt as though none of that mattered, none of her mistakes or flaws, none of her growing nerves, not even her racing heart that had hit 200 bpm.  
        “i don’t know,” misaki finally uttered, looking down at her left hand, still entertwined with kokoro’s right. it was now her turn to unlace them, placing kokoro’s hand on her own chest, so that the girls were standing with each others hands on each others beating hearts.  
“does this count as an answer?”  
…

**Author's Note:**

> hi, thanks for reading my stupid and self-indulgent fic!!! i just love these girls so much and!!! i read a fic w/slow dancing so i wanted to write a fic like that. 
> 
> btw the title is from dancin - aaron smith but i recommend the krono remix!!
> 
> thank u have a good day!!


End file.
